The Woman Who Ate Everyone
by Rhianwen
Summary: In which Nancy has a billboard, Wendy has a girl-crush, and Joker has a hazmat suit. Slightly pre-OAV.


The Woman Who Ate Everyone

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Summary: In which Nancy has a billboard, Wendy has a girl-crush, and Joker has a hazmat suit. Slightly pre-OAV

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Disclaimer: I don't own them, they don't like me. Kurata, who does own them, probably wouldn't like me either.

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"Oh, by the way, Wendy, I'll be meeting with an agent this morning between ten and eleven regarding Agent Paper's field team," Joker said absently to the little blonde flitting about, working towards the futile goal of putting his desk into some semblance of order.

"Understood, sir," she said cheerfully, before shaking her head as she withdrew something from the sprawling chaos that had presumably once upon a time been a liverwurst sandwich. "I'll make sure everyone knows that you're not to be disturbed." She wiped the remnants of month-old liverwurst from her hands on her skirt, and then crimsoned as she caught his disapproving eye. Anxious to avoid another _you ought to treat your belongings with a little more care, Wendy_ lecture so early in the day, she hurried on. "Who is it today, then?"

With a heavy sigh, he withdrew a file, opened and tossed it onto the top of the pile of clutter. Startled by his reaction, Wendy frowned.

"If I shouldn't be asking--"

He gave her hand a reassuring pat.

"No, it's quite all right. I just can't honestly say that I'm looking terribly forward to this."

Mystified, the little blonde picked up the photo at the top of the open folder. Her eyes widened.

"It's--it's Nancy Makuhari!" she gasped.

Joker looked up absently.

"Oh, you've met?"

"No, of course not!" Wendy replied, shocked and just a little bit fluttery at the mere idea. "Meet Nancy Makuhari face to face? How many of us _have_ been so fortunate?"

If it had been anywhere within the realms of his characterization to do so, Joker undoubtedly would have made a face.

"Yes; fortunate."

But Wendy noticed neither this almost-face nor his less-than-sincere agreement with her adoring sentiment, due in part to the tendency of gushing fangirls to notice little going on around them, a tendency with which this chronicler is all too familiar.

"I've read her book, though. It's taught me more about realizing and acting on my feminine urges than all my years of college! I can't believe she'll be coming _here_! The Woman Who Ate Everyone herself!" she gushed. "I might even get to catch a glimpse of her in person, if I camp outside the meeting room!"

"Perhaps she'll be handing out signed photos," Joker suggested acerbically.

"I'd love to meet her," the starry-eyed girl continued with a wistful sigh and once again, without the slightest bit of attention to her boss's inexplicable lack of enthusiasm, "but I know that this meeting is important, and the last thing you need is a crowd of squealing females hanging around to distract you--"

"I think _crowd_ might be a bit of an overstatement."

"--so I promise that I'll keep out of the way too."

At this, Joker looked up abruptly from the matters spread before him.

"Actually, I'll need you present at this meeting. Meeting Room Twelve, nine forty-five sharp so we've some time to go over the notes on file."

A light of pure joy broke over the little blonde's face.

"Y-you mean, I get to meet her? In _person_?"

"Yes, you'll get to meet her, in person," Joker replied wearily, rubbing his eyes.

"Oh, thank-you, Mr. Joker!" she squealed, somehow clearing his desk in a single, gravity-defying leap and landing squarely in his lap in a tight, ecstatic hug. "It's like a dream come true!"

"Believe me, I am always more than happy to let you do your job," he near-grumbled once he had recovered, nevertheless patting her back awkwardly.

"I just wish I'd known in advance - I'd have done something with my hair, and worn my frivolous, impractical undies!"

"Your hair is just fine, Wendy," Joker assured her through gritted teeth. "And I'm sure your undies are as well."

"Are you sure?" she asked anxiously, hiking up her skirt to reveal pink cotton edged in white lace, a demure little white bow on the front. "They seem awfully _juvenile_."

His intended annoyed demand of why exactly she imagined that _Ms._ Makuhari would be in any position to see her undies, frivolous and impractical or not, died on his lips.

"Hmm. Perhaps you're right," he said thoughtfully, reaching for her. The pairs with little bows on the front had always been his favourites. "You'd better let me take a closer look."

"Oh, this is so exciting! I've wanted to meet her for _ages_!" Wendy squealed, bouncing excitedly in place, thus bringing her knee into swift, painful contact with Joker's nose.

With a shout, he pulled quickly away and glowered darkly.

"Well, that's killed the mood."

Wendy blushed sheepishly.

"Sorry, sir."

He sighed theatrically.

"No, Wendy, I suppose that's what I get for succumbing to _someone's_ feminine wiles at inappropriate times."

"So, will I be taking notes?" she asked eagerly, mind already racing through the matter of which pen would make her look the most grown-up and sophisticated.

"Not exactly."

She blinked.

"Then, if you don't mind my asking, sir, why exactly do you need me there?"

"Take a look at her resume," Joker replied flatly. "It's just under the portfolio."

Obediently, she moved around to the front of his desk and shifted aside the stack of photographs of the purple-haired woman in various states of undress. Making a mental note to come back to them later, study the poses, and hopefully employ a few of them on her next date, she withdrew a massive bundle of paper and scanned the first page.

"'Previous Sexual Encounters,'" she read aloud from the bolded header just underneath the name and mailing address. She frowned. "What an odd resume." Then she began flipping through the pages, her eyes widening as the list continued over each with no signs of trickling to a stop. "She _must_ be padding a little. I don't think there are that many people currently of reproductive age on the planet!"

"Perhaps she doesn't confine herself to reproductive age," Joker suggested scornfully.

"My God, it's double-sided! And look at the size of that print!"

"You understand, then, why I want you nearby," he said, pushing her hands gently away as she attempted to wave the massive stack before his eyes. I'll need you to relay messages."

"I-I'm afraid I _don't_ understand," Wendy admitted hesitantly.

"Consider, for a moment, what a man could _catch_ from a woman like that. I'm hesitant to be in the same room with her, but some things can't be helped. Nevertheless, I have no intention of being anywhere near her within that room, and I am certainly not going to put my health at risk by speaking to her directly."

"So...you need me to...run from one end of the table to the other, carrying messages like a child caught in the middle of her friends' argument?"

"Well, when you put it like _that_, it just sounds silly," Joker scoffed.

"Yes; because the silliness is all in the wording," Wendy sighed, overcome by a sudden and crushing headache. "Honestly, Mr. Joker, only you could see a woman who looks like _that_, and think immediately about venereal diseases."

"For heaven's sake, Wendy, I'm a grown man!" Joker said severely. "I'm hardly going to abandon all coherent thought over a pair of oversized novelty..." He made a vague gesture of something approximately chest height. "...knockers."

"Well, maybe you're not a breast man," Wendy shrugged. "What about an oversized novelty cu--"

"Wendy!" Joker interrupted sternly. He shook his head sadly. "She's not even here yet, and she's already having a negative effect on you."

"Well, apparently she's lowering _your_ IQ, one way or another," Wendy retorted.

"And just what does that mean?" he demanded indignantly.

She sputtered helplessly.

"What does that--? Mr. Joker, you can't catch something just by talking to the woman!"

"Well, that isn't a risk I'm willing to take."

"But you'll risk me," she grumbled. "Somehow, this puts a lot of things sharply in perspective..."

He laughed.

"Don't be silly, Wendy, you're not in any danger. Girls can't catch things from girls. These sorts of diseases are only passed through _real_ sex."

"It's at times like these," Wendy murmured, head in hand, "that I almost agree with the other girls."

"Oh?" Joker asked curiously. "About what?"

"Em, nothing," she assured him quickly, scurrying for the door. "Well, I'd best go get started on my--oh, my God!"

Joker watched, amused, as she ducked back into the office, expression frantic, and began a mad attempt to set the place to rights.

"What on earth are you doing, Wendy?"

"She's here!"

Joker stared, aghast.

"What?! She's already at the meeting room?! It's barely nine o' clock!"

"No, she's _here_!" A sharp knock sounded at the door. "Oh, no! I'm not ready!" Wendy moaned despairingly, glaring at her boss as he leapt promptly over his desk and huddled on the other side. "Honestly, Mr. Joker, stop being such a baby!"

"I don't have my hazmat suit!" he lamented, rummaging wildly through his desk.

"Mr. Joker!" Wendy chided. "That's so rude!" Another knock, sharper than before. With a deep breath and a quick attempt to smooth down her hair, she pulled the door open. "Good morning, Ms. Makuhari!"

"I know, I'm early. I gave myself plenty of time to peruse the meat market, but there's nothing here worth my--" She broke off, peering closely at the flushed, starry-eyed little blonde. "Joker? Wow; you're shorter than I expected. I didn't expect the boobs, either."

Wendy gave a nervous, hysterical little giggle.

"No, he's over there. I'm just his assistant. And, um, I'll be the messenger for this meeting."

"The--never mind," Nancy concluded, rolling her eyes. She hefted a massive billboard up over one shoulder. "Let's get this over with."

Wendy gazed in awe at the billboard and its colourful blinking messages. _Currently sleeping with..._ she read, and then started and blushed brightly as the names began to scroll past in rapid succession. _Oh, my! I thought David was gay!_

"Argh! Wendy, tell her not to come any closer!" Joker yelped.

Nancy stopped abruptly at this unexpected input from the desk, startled, and turned to Wendy.

"What's with him?"

"I don't know," Wendy replied, rubbing her temples wearily, "but I hope it's only temporary."

"Whatever," Nancy shrugged. She addressed the desk. "Look, you wanted to talk about--"

"LA-LA-LA-LA, I CAN'T HEAR YOU!" Joker sang loudly, fingers tightly in his ears.

"He wants you to tell me, so I can pass it onto him," Wendy explained, in much the same tone that one might explain to a curious onlooker that her beloved old grandfather had recently adopted the firm belief that he was a toaster pastry.

"Okay, fine," Nancy snapped. "Tell the idiot that I'm here to find out about the other idiots I'll be working with. And tell him that if they're anything like him, he'll be down two agents before the mission is over."

"Alright, then," Wendy agreed cheerfully before trotting over to Joker's desk and leaning over to repeat the message to the man on the floor, now wearing a plaster mask.

Nancy's eyes lingered on the way the little blonde's skirt clung tightly as she bent over. She sighed irritably. What a waste. Cute girl, nice ass, and she'd never even get to add her to the billboard because she was too annoyed.

"Wendy, please tell Ms. Makuhari that everything she needs to know about Agent Paper should be in here," Joker said, muffled both by the desk and the plaster mask.

Wendy nodded briskly, took the folder he held out, and hurried over to the taller woman.

"Mr. Joker would like you to know that--"

"Yeah, I heard," Nancy interrupted, snatching the file from Wendy and casting a venomous glare at the desk. "You know, you could have just mailed this."

Joker's hand appeared over the edge of the desk, beckoning Wendy over. She trotted obediently across the room, crouched next to the man on the floor, and listened attentively. Then, nodding her understanding, she hurried back over to Nancy.

"Mr. Joker would like you to know that he thought it was important to meet face-to-face."

And thus did Nancy Makuhari find herself, for the first time in many a year, at a complete loss for words, her mind refusing to fully comprehend the stupidity it had just witnessed.

Finally...

"Hey, give him a message for me, would you, kid?"

"Of course!" Wendy agreed, eyes wide and earnest. "What shall I tell him for you?"

Nancy gave a sharp-toothed grin, then related her message in a vehement whisper. Wendy nodded briskly.

"Alright, I'll tell him."

As Nancy and her billboard departed with a vicious slam of the door, Wendy scurried over to Joker's desk.

"Miss Makuhari advises you to go fu--em, make gentle and considerate love to yourself," she amended, going bright red and fidgety, as his expression grew stern.

"I see," Joker sighed, climbing to his feet and dusting himself off. "How very helpful."

As he pulled off the plaster mask and tossed it back into the drawer, Wendy continued to fidget, and to blush, and to cast nervous sidelong glances at him. Finally, he sighed impatiently.

"Yes?"

Her blush deepened.

"W-well, if you don't need me at the moment, would it be alright if I went after her and asked for an autograph? I want to see if she'll sign my frivolous, impractical undies. I have them in my purse, you know, and I bought them in her honour, so I think it would be only _right_."

"Oh, fine, go," Joker huffed, before turning away and very pointedly Ignoring her.

Once the door had clicked softly shut, he glowered at nothing in particular.

"There's something I don't altogether trust about that woman..."

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End Notes: There's just no end to how much I'm going to Hell recently, is there? XD

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End file.
